


Punish Me Sweetly

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom! Aomine, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mouth Spreader, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:44:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imayoshi punishes Aomine for fighting with Wakamatsu. Seriously it's just porn.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Imayoshi didn’t speak.</p>
  <p>No, that wasn’t completely accurate. His deep gray gaze, normally obscured by his glasses and a grin that narrowed his eyes into slyly smiling half moons, spoke volumes, blazed with a message that Aomine could in no way misinterpret.</p>
  <p>His altercation with Wakamatsu had not gone unobserved, and punishment was coming.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Punish Me Sweetly

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to name this **"Asses and Aces"** but [Letti](http://lettimonster.tumblr.com/) (who beta'd it for me) vetoed it because, in her words, "It sounds like a porno." Which is exactly what it is so if you are wanting some deep Ima/Ao action, it's not here - unless you count Ima's *bleep* going into Aomine's *bleep*, that's some deep action right there.

 

Imayoshi didn’t speak.

No, that wasn’t completely accurate. His deep gray gaze, normally obscured by his glasses and a grin that narrowed his eyes into slyly smiling half moons, spoke volumes, blazed with a message that Aomine could in no way misinterpret.

His altercation with Wakamatsu had not gone unobserved, and punishment was coming.

The thought of the pain and pleasure to come took over Aomine’s body, eliciting a shudder that traveled down his spine and to his dick.

Imayoshi, that shitty glasses-wearing bastard, noticed. He always noticed. His perpetual smirk kicked up a notch and he deliberately brushed up against Aomine as he passed by, fingers grazing the seam of Aomine’s ass.

The shudder became a quake. Aomine's gym shorts felt unbearably tight. Not wanting to show his burgeoning erection to anyone else, especially not Satsuki  _because shit how could he explain that he was getting turned on by their sadistic fuck of a captain when he couldn’t even explain it to himself,_  he took his usual perch on the gym’s stage, rolling onto his right side and presenting his back to everyone else.

Naturally, that made Wakamatsu resume his bitching, but Aomine tuned him out, focusing on the pain in his groin and enjoying it's sweet, sweet burn.

Imayoshi had taught him that, taught him to savor the ache, taught him a great many things actually and even when Aomine felt embarrassed, humiliated, angry and pissed off at how his captain treated him, it didn’t stop him from coming back for more.

Imayoshi might be a sick fuck but he was just as twisted for getting off on it.

The thought should have depressed him, but Imayoshi had trained him too well. All he felt was a breathless, giddy sort of anticipation. It wasn’t the same kind of high he used to get from basketball, but it was damn close.

He closed his eyes and must have dozed off because the next sound he heard was the loud click of the lights switching off.

Folding up into a sitting position, he looked around and found the gym deserted, the faint glow from the flood lights casting gray shadows on the floor and walls. He frowned, wondering if Imayoshi had decided to really punish him by neglecting him, but a sudden fist in his hair assuaged that concern.

“Aomine,” Imayoshi yanked his head up so that Aomine could see that cunning, smirking face, “you punched Wakamatsu again today.”

His voice was a weapon and he knew how to use it, that deep rasp as rough as gravel yet as silky as a spider’s web, and twice as dangerous, sliding over Aomine’s body with sharp, sensual disapproval.

“He started it,” Aomine replied, his own voice a throaty purr, pulse throbbing, body humming with sexual anticipation.

The hand in his hair tightened painfully, pulling a small sound from his lips.

“Yes, and he’s already received his punishment.”

Aomine didn’t like the sound of that. His blue eyes snapped with anger, an anger born solely of jealousy.

“So did you fuck him too, then?” The question lashed out before he could stop it.

“Would it bother you if I did?”

He sounded almost bored, probably because he knew it would piss Aomine off even more, which it did.

Stubbornly refusing to answer, Aomine tried to look away, but Imayoshi strengthened his grip, jerking the bigger man’s head back until the cords in his neck cramped from the strain. The pain made Aomine’s pupils dilate, made his breath puff out in broken, excited bursts.

“Would it bother you?” Imayoshi repeated

Baring his teeth, because though he might be a pet he wasn’t completely tamed, not yet, Aomine growled, “Of course it would, asshole. Now quit dicking around.”

One long arm came up to bat Imayoshi’s hand away, but he caught it, caged it, flipped it behind Aomine’s back as he leaned in close enough for his breath to ghost over Aomine’s lips.

“That’s not the proper way to address your senpai, is it, Aomine?”

“Fuck you!”

“Is it?” Imayoshi applied more pressure, forcing Aomine’s arm up higher, smile widening when Aomine’s gaze turned glassy.

“No."

“No what?”

Aomine licked his lips, feeling pre-cum already start to dampen his shorts. “No, sir.” He moaned the words, earning a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Good boy,” Imayoshi released him and stood back. “Now strip.”

The captain didn’t wait to see if Aomine complied, turning around and walking over to the curtain.

On legs that were just a tad unsteady, Aomine rose to his feet. The part of his brain that was arrogant, selfish, assertive yearned to kick Imayoshi’s ass for daring to talk to him like that, daring to order him around. He was Aomine  _fucking_  Daiki and no one, no one treated him with anything less than respect.

The bigger part, the part Imayoshi had wickedly, skillfully sculpted, wanted to offer his ass, his mouth, his everything to the man who had schooled him in the pleasure of submitting.

Compromising, he shrugged out his shirt and shorts, but stood tall and confident, arms crossed, defiance stamped across his features.

A defiance that morphed into something else, something hotter, deeper when Imayoshi turned back around, let his smoldering, possessive gaze sweep over Aomine’s body, down to his smooth, muscled chest, down further to his angry, jutting arousal. He moved forward, still devouring Aomine with his eyes.

The vulnerability of being naked in front of someone, of being stalked by something more dangerous and powerful than himself, provoked Aomine’s fight or flight instincts, pumping endorphins through his body, making his cock so hard he could barely stand the weight of it.

The huge bulge between Imayoshi’s own legs, visible even under his loose basketball shorts, was obvious and Aomine felt a flicker of satisfaction that he’d done that. His scheming, intelligent, perverse captain was aroused because of him.

It also made him bold, reckless, wanting to see how far he could push the other man, craving the seduction of Imayoshi’s searing domination.

“Can we just get on with this? My dick and I have a date with Mai-chan’s new photo collection later.” He made his voice mocking, taunting, shoving a pinky in his ear to complete the picture of disinterest. There was nothing he could do about his turgid, weeping erection that belied everything, however.

Imayoshi closed the distance, tsking at him, but it was an amused sound. “Ohhh? I have to say hearing that doesn’t make me happy. I’m sorry but you’re going to have to disappoint Mai-chan. I plan on wringing every drop,” his fingers reached out to lightly slide along Aomine’s cock, leaving a blazing trail behind, “out of you.

Intense, savage anticipation curled low in Aomine’s stomach and he had to hold back a whimper, a whimper that then exploded out of his mouth when Imayoshi palmed his dick and squeezed hard.

He unconsciously rolled his hips forward, seeking more, but Imayoshi just shook his head and stepped back.

“No, no. You don’t get to cum yet, not until I’ve punished you properly.”

“Then do it,” he snarled through gritted teeth, wanting that punishment, needing it with every fiber of his being.

Imayoshi tapped his chin. “I think you can do better than that. Ask me nicely. Ask me to fuck your mouth and then your ass, beg me like the good little cock-slut you are.”

Anger and desired warred within Aomine, hating those vulgar, degrading words yet loving them, too.

“Please,” he bit out.

That wasn’t enough to satisfy Imyoshi. He just waited, one eyebrow cocked expectantly.

Whole body flushing with shame and lust, Aomine whispered, “Please fuck my ass and mouth.”

Humming in approval, the shorter man held up his other hand. For the first time, Aomine realized he was holding something, something with straps and buckles and a ring in the middle.

“Do you know what this is?”

Swallowing hard, Aomine nodded.

“Good, that saves a tedious explanation. Get on your knees.”

Blinking passion-dazed eyes, Aomine dropped to his knees. The glossy wooden floor was cool against his feverish flesh.

Moving back into his space, Imayoshi dropped the straps over his head, buckling them in the back.

“Open your mouth.”

Wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, Aomine inhaled and parted his lips, staring up into gleaming gray eyes as he did.

Imayoshi leaned in and pulled the ring down, inserting it between his jaws, forcing his lips into an O shape. The ring was made of rubber and tasted faintly of strawberries. He felt saliva pooling in his cheeks and had to swallow again.

“My, my don’t you just look pretty like that.” Imayoshi murmured casually, but Aomine could hear the hoarseness in his voice, his slightly ragged breathing. “Should I take a picture, send it to the guys, or maybe to those middle school teammates of yours?” he cupped Aomine’s chin. “What would they say if they could see you like this, mouth spread and ready to be fucked?” A sneakered foot reached out, ground lightly against his dick, dragging a muffled from his lips. “If they could see your cock like this?”

Aomine glared furiously up at him, but couldn’t help rubbing himself against Imayoshi’s foot.

“Just kidding,” Imayoshi laughed huskily. Hooking two fingers into his shorts, he tugged them down, revealing a thick, hard shaft curling up toward his stomach. 

A whine settled in the back of Aomine’s throat, though he wasn’t conscious of it.

His captain was. Behind his lenses, his eyes became glittering slits of dark silver.

Gripping his erection, he pumped it a few times. Aomine panted, his wild gaze tracking the movement.

“You want this, don’t you?”  Imayoshi gave his length another, slow stroke. “Aomine Daiki, scoring ace of the Generation of Miracles, wants a cock in his mouth so bad he’s drooling.”

It was true, Aomine could feel the saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth where the straps met the ring. Another flare of delicious shame swept over him and he could only jerk his head, gasping in agreement.

More dark chuckles rumbled up from Imayoshi’s chest.

“Well, I’m in a tiny bit of a forgiving mood, so I will give it to you then.”

Without further discussion, Imaysohi caught the back of Aomine’s head in his free hand and held the taller man there while he rolled his hips, slipping the silken head of his cock between Aomine’s open, waiting lips.

The first taste hit Aomine’s tongue and he groaned again at the salty, masculine flavor. Imayoshi pushed forward and he could smell the other’s musk. The scent made him almost light headed.

“Suck,” Imayoshi ordered softly, but Aomine hadn’t needed the command, already pulling the other man in with his tongue,

Though the spreader felt strange, he was still able to draw hard on Imayoshi’s flesh, sucking it hard and deep. The fingers in his hair curled. He tried to bring his own hands up to touch the other man, to touch himself, but Imayoshi stopped him.

“No, leave your hands on your knees. Move them again and this is over.”

With a moan of frustration, Aomine dropped his hands to his knees. Satisfied, Imayoshi started to thrust shallowly, languidly fucking Aomine's face through the gag. He wanted more, wanted it rougher, faster. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked hard, rubbing his tongue up and down Imayoshi’s shaft. His captain drew in a hot breath, hips jerking, bouncing the head of his dick against the roof of Aomine’s mouth.

“That was naughty of you, and you know what happens to naughty boys, don’t you?” Imayoshi’s voice was almost guttural. “They get spanked. Is that what you want, for me to spank you?”

Oh god,  _yessss_. Aomine’s ass clenched in response and more pre-cum drizzled from his cock. He moaned around Imayoshi’s thick heat as it stroked a bit faster inside his mouth.

As if that sound flipped a switch, Imayoshi began riding his mouth faster, bumping against the back of his throat, and it was almost too much, almost too deep, but they’d had plenty of practice with blow jobs before and Imayoshi could easily gauge the point where he would gag.

Guilty pleasure zinged through him, making him suck harder. Wet, slurping sounds echoed obscenely through the otherwise quiet gym.

He could tell when Imayoshi was close because the other man grabbed his head with both hands and shackled him in place, hips snapping back and forth in a frantic, driving rhythm.

Abruptly, the captain’s back stiffened. With a low, arousing moan, he came, flooding Aomine’s mouth with bitter fluid.

“Don’t swallow,” he gasped, pulsing a few more times. “I have plans for that.”

Aomine’s throat closed reflexively but he managed to keep Imayoshi’s cream in place, though it was hard with the gag holding his mouth open.

Sensing his dilemma, Imayoshi pulled out and with a flick of his fingers removed the ring, and then unbuckled the straps, giving Aomine’s sweaty raven-blue hair a couple of pats. Jaw aching, Aomine closed his lips, careful not to spill a drop. The O ring and straps fell to the ground with thud.

Lazy smirk back in place, Imayoshi lowered himself to the floor, swinging his legs over the edge of the stage. He was still mostly dressed, shorts pooled just above his knees.

“Come here,” he patted his thighs.

Crawling the short distance, anticipation and impatience nearly consuming him, Aomine lay himself over Imayoshi’s lap, but his captain had other ideas, arranging him so his ass was high in the air, his elbows on the floor. His face burned again at the ignominious position, but Aomine was much too far gone now to really care.

A hand hovered below his chin. “Spit it out.”

He parted his lips and rolled his tongue, letting cum and a healthy dose of saliva dribble from his mouth. It was dirty, nasty and made him so hot he tried to grind his pelvis against Imayoshi’s leg, but the position he was in kept his lower half from touching any part of the smaller man’s body.

“Shit!” Frustration clogged his voice.

“This was a punishment,” Imayoshi reminded him, dry hand coming up to rest on his ass, the other sliding between his cheeks. “You can’t cum until I tell you.”

Groaning, Aomine dropped his head against the floor.

Slick fingers probed his ass, coating his rim with their combined fluids. He pushed back against them, but  Imayoshi stopped, waiting until he quit moving to start again.

Just as a slim finger slid into him, Imayoshi’s other hand came down on his left buttcheek.

_Smack!_

Aomine jolted, more in surprise than in pain because, while that first slap was loud, it hadn’t hurt, not really.

 _Smack!_  After several long, drawn out seconds another followed, accompanied by Imayoshi’s finger twisting inside him.

It still didn’t hurt, and Aomine shifted restlessly, his arousal growing as he  _waited_  for it to hurt.

A second finger entered him, more smacks heated his ass, slow and steady at first and then faster until the sound littered the air.

 _Smacksmacksmacksmacksmacksmack!_  

Sometimes the blows fell in time to the fingers thrusting in and out of him, other times they countered the movements, creating a luscious friction on the outside of his ass that complimented the one inside.

Imayoshi altered his slaps, hitting one side of Aomine’s butt, then the other, spreading the growing sting across his entire bottom. The hits became harder, stinging now, and he squirmed, not just because of the growing pain but also because of the pleasure that pain shot to his groin.

A third finger squeezed inside him, pumping and curling, grazing against that hidden spot that made him buck up into the hand spanking him.

His ass started to really, really burn. Little grunts spilled out of his mouth with each smack and he moved his hips, humping the air, seeking that final stimulation that would send him over.

His sadistic captain wouldn’t give it to him.

In fact, each time it seemed like Aomine just might cum, just might orgasm from the fingers working him and the hand spanking him, Imayoshi would stop, holding him right there on the edge of climax until the urge finally, painfully passed.

Then he started right back up.

Over and over, for ten, fifteen, thirty minutes, Imayoshi paddled Aomine’s butt, finger-fucked his hole, until his entire ass felt hot and inflamed, until he was crying and fuck yes  _begging_.

“Please, goddamit, please fuck me already, Imayoshi.” Hot tears burned his eyes, but he didn’t care, pride completely submerged under his need to cum. “Let me cum or fuck me!”

On the verge of saying no, of continuing his torment because he really was a sadistic bastard who enjoyed having Aomine’s big, beautiful body at his mercy, who loved the sound of that sinfully husky voice screaming and begging, Imayoshi noted a movement out of the corner of his eye.

Continuing to spank and finger Aomine’s ass, he tilted his head slightly, just enough to get glimpse of the person standing there staring at them in wide-eyed, open-mouthed horror.

A positively evil smile curved Imayoshi’s lips.

“Since you begged so prettily, I think that’s enough punishment. I’m nice and hard again from hearing your sweet little cries.” Aomine made a noise at that but he ignored it. “If you want to cum, then put yourself on my cock and ride me.”

He pulled his hands from Aomine’s body and placed them palm down on the floor behind him, which allowed him to lean back.

Aomine scrambled up, not waiting to see if Imayoshi would change his mind. Chest heaving, he lifted a leg over Imayoshi’s lap to straddle him. One hand on the other man’s shoulder, Aomine reached down and took hold of his cock, smearing the moisture that welled at the tip in the process, enjoying the sharp sound Imayoshi made.

Rising up on his knees, he centered his captain’s velvety hard shaft under his opening and pressed down, hissing at that first bite as his body stretched to accommodate the other man. Needing more, he threw back his head and dropped, swallowing Imayoshi’s entire length, liquid pleasure searing through him as his ass met hard, muscled thighs.

“That’s not enough for you, is it?” Imayoshi asked almost harshly.

No, not it wasn’t.

Rising up, he dug blunt nails into Imayoshi’s shoulder and slammed down, hitting his pleasure spot, crying out as a bolt of fierce ecstasy vibrated along his spine, repeating the action again, and again, until he was riding and grinding and racing toward completion.

“Mm, you’re such a slut, aren’t you?” Imayoshi angled his hips up, forcing himself even deeper. “Bouncing on my cock like a greedy little whore. I bet anyone would do for you, wouldn’t they?”

“Sh-shut up,” Aomine groaned, rocking harder.

With a panting, sly laugh, the captain kept up the erotic, verbal assault. “I bet you’d take anyone who wanted you, would spread your legs and let them fuck you into a sloppy, filthy mess.”

The dirty, humiliating words were as arousing as the strongest aphrodisiac and his muscles spasmed around Imayoshi’s cock.

“I bet you’d even let someone you hate fuck your slutty little hole, someone like,” Imayoshi turned his head and stared straight into their voyeur’s eyes, “Wakamatsu.”

Captain and future captain stared at each other, Wakamatsu trembling from everything he’d seen and heard. He was also hard, a rather impressive erection tenting his jeans. Imayoshi’s eyes flickered to the bulge and a wicked, knowing smile crossed his face.

“Alright, Aomine. You’ve been a good boy, you can cum now.”

Aomine, completely oblivious to the other two men’s silent interaction, thrust down hard, impaling himself on Imayoshi’s cock. The boiling vortex of orgasm tightened into a burning, twisted knot that suddenly released, sending delirious waves of carnal heat crashing into him. He came hard, spurting in hot, screamy ropes that dirtied Imayoshi’s shirt. He’d probably be punished for that, too, and the thought made his dick jerk again.

Imayoshi leaned forward, moving his hands to Aomine’s hips, yanking him down and shoving up a few times and finding his own release.

When Aomine collapsed, burying his head into the captain’s shoulder, he let his hands come up to caress that wide, sweaty back, never taking his eyes from Wakamatsu. And then he licked his bottom lip suggestively.

Apparently that was the last straw. Grabbing his dick through his jeans, Wakamatsu fled. Imayoshi had no doubt that the gym’s bathroom was his destination.

It might prove a problem in the future that Wakamatsu had seen them. But then again ... maybe it would give Touou’s future captain an idea on how to deal with their selfish, normally untouchable ace. Kissing Aomine’s ear, he decided then and there to give his junior a few pointers. For the sake of the team, of course.

End

 


End file.
